House of the Pokemon Hero
by KaterinaBeloved
Summary: Ash is clone. An unwanted, outcasted clone. There is only one girl who cares about him, Misty. Pokeshipping Contestshipping. Chapter 7: 6 year old Ash is looking through the bars and telling us what he sees from his point of view, being Jessie's captive.
1. In The Beginning

Okay people, I've decided to write a story! Well, not write but you know summarize into a pokemon story- anyways, I wanna see how this plays out I think its great cuz it fits pokemon really well. Has anyone ever read House of the Scorpion? Well you should anyways I'll start writing. I'm writing the prologue in this chapter.

Disclaimer: I do not own pokemon and House of the Scorpion. I don't even own the words just to get it straight.

In the beginning there were thirty six droplets of them, thirty six droplets of life so tiny that Professor Oak could see them only under a microscope. He studied them anxiously in the darkened room.

Water bubbled through tubes that snaked around the warm, humid walls. Air was sucked into growth chambers. A dull, red light shone on the faces of the workers as thy watched their own arrays of little glass dishes. Each one contained a drop of life.

Professor Oak moved his dishes, one after the other, under the lens of the microscope. The cells were perfect-or so it seemed. Each was furnished with all it needed to grow. So much knowledge was hidden in that tiny world! Even Professor Oak, who understood the process very well, was awed. The cell already understood what color hair it was to have, how tall it would become, and even whether it preferred spinach or broccoli. It might even have a hazy desire for music or crossword puzzles. All that was hidden in the droplet.

Finally the round outlines quivered and the lines appeared, dividing the cells in two. Professor Oak sighed. It was going to be all right. He watched the samples grow, and then he carefully moved them to the incubator.

But it wasn't all right. Something about the food, the heat, the light was wrong, and the man didn't know what it was. Very quickly over half of them died. There was only fifteen now, and Professor Oak felt a cold lump in his stomach. If he failed, he would be sent to the farms, and then what would become of his wife and children, and his father, who was so old?

"It's okay" said Lisa, so close by that Professor Oak jumped. She was one of the senior technicians. She had worked for so many years in the dark, her face was chalk white and her blue veins were visible through her skin.

"How can it be okay?" Professor Oak said.

"The cells were frozen over a hundred years ago. They can't be as healthy as samples taken yesterday."

"That long" the man marvled.

"But some of them should grow" Lisa said sternly.

So Professor Oak began to worry again. And for a month everything went well. The day came when he implanted the tiny embryos in the brood cows. The cows were lined up, patiently waiting. They were fed by tubes, and their bodies were exercised by giant metal arms that grasped their legs and flexed them as though the cows were walking though an endless field. Now and then the animal moved its jaws in an attempt to chew cud.

_Did they dream of dandelions? _Professor Oak wondered. _Did they feel a phantom of wind blowing tall grass against their legs? _

Their brains were filled with quiet joy from implants in their skulls. Were they aware of the children growing in their wombs?

Perhaps the cows hated what they had done to them, because they certainly rejected the embryos. One after another the infants, at this point no larger than minnows died.

Until there was only one.

Professor Oak slept badly at night. He cried out in his sleep, and when his wife asked what was the matter. He couldn't tell her. He couldn't say that if his last embryo died, he would be stripped of his job. He would be sent to the farms. And his wife children and father would be cast out to walk the hot, dusty roads.

But that one embryo grew until it was clearly a being with arms and legs and a sweet, dreaming face. Professor Oak watched it through scanners. "You hold my life in your hands" he told the infant. As though it could hear, the infant flexed it's tiny body in the womb until it turned toward the man. Professor Oak felt an unreasoning stir of affection.

When the day came, Professor Oak received the newborn into his hands as though it were his own child. His eyes blurred as he laid it in a crib and reached for the needle that would blunt its intelligence.

"Don't fix that one" said Lisa hastily catching his arm. "It's an Ash Ketchum. They're always left intact."

_Have I done you a favor? _Thought Professor Oak as he watched the baby turn its head toward the bustling nurses in their starched, white uniforms. _Will you thank me for it later?_


	2. Little House in the Poppy Feilds Part: 1

Alright this story might not be that popular but I think it's good story to keep writing. Oh and I'll probably not work on my other story 'Brikoru's Revenge' for a while cuz I'm basing this off of a school library book and I have like two weeks to write I think 50 chapters so yeah. So, I'm not updating ' till like the end of October.

Chapter 2:

Ash stood in front of the door to keep Delia from leaving. The small, crowded living room was still blue with early morning light. The sun has not yet lifted above the hills marking the distant horizon.

"What's this?" the woman said. "You're a big boy now, almost six. You know I have to work." She picked him up to move him out of the way.

"Take me with you," begged Ash, grabbing her shirt and wading it up in his hands.

" Stop that." Delia gently pried his fingers from the cloth. "You can't come _mi vida._ You must stay hidden in the nest like a good little mouse. They're hawks out there that eat little mice."

"I'm not a mouse!"Ash yelled. He shrieked at the top of his voice in a way he knew was irritating. Even keeping Delia home long enough to deliver a tongue-lashing was worth it. He couldn't bear being left alone for another day.

Delia thrust him away. "_!Callete! _Shut up! Do you want to make me deaf? You're just a little kid with cornmeal for brains!" Ash flopped suddenly into a big easy chair.

Delia immediately knelt down and put her arms around him. "Don't cry, _mi vida._ I love you more than anything in the world. I'll explain things to you when you're older." But she wouldn't. She had made the same promise before. Suddenly the fight went out of Ash. He was too small and weak to fight whatever drew Delia to abandon him each day.

"Will you bring me a present?" he said, wriggling away from her kiss.

"Of course! Always!" the woman cried.

So Ash allowed her to go, but he was angry at the same time. It was a funny kind of anger, for he felt like crying, too. The house was so lonely with out Delia singing, banging pots, or talking about people he had never seen never seen and never would see. Even when Delia was asleep-and she fell asleep easily after long hours cooking at the Big House-the rooms felt full of her warm presence.

When Ash was younger, it hadn't seemed to matter. He'd looked out the window where fields of white poppies stretched all the way to shadowy hills. The whiteness hurt his eyes, and so he turned from them with relief to the cool darkness inside.

But lately Ash had begun to look at things more carefully. The poppy fields weren't completely deserted. Now and then he saw horses-he knew them from picture books-walking them in all that brightness, but it seemed the riders weren't adults, but children like him.

And with that discovery grew a desire to see them more closely.

Ash had watched children on television. He saw that they were seldom alone. They did things together, like building forts or kicking balls or fighting. Even fighting was interesting when it meant you had other people around. Ash never saw anyone except Delia and, once a month, the doctor. The doctor was a sour man and didn't like Ash at all.

Ash sighed. To do _anything_, he would have to go outdoors, which Delia said again and again was very dangerous. Besides, the doors and windows were locked.

Ash settled himself at a small wooden table to look at some of his books. Pedro_ el Conejo,_ said the cover. Ash could read-slightly-both English and Spanish. In fact, he and Delia mixed the languages together, but it didn't matter. They understood eachother.

Pedro el Conejo was a bad little rabbit who crawled into Senor MacGregor's garden to eat up his lettuces. Senor MacGregor wanted to put Pedro into a pie, but Pedro, after many adventures, got away. It was a satisfying story.

Ash got up and wandered into the kitchen. It contained a small refrigerator and a microwave. The microwave had a sign reading PELIGRO!!! DANGER!!! And squares of yellow note paper saying NO! NO! NO! NO! To be extra sure, Delia had wrapped a belt around the microwave door and secured it with a padlock. She lived in terror that Ash would find a way to open it while she was at work and "cook his little gizzards," as she put it.

Ash didn't know what gizzards were and he didn't want to find out. He edged around the dangerous machine to get to the fridge. That was definitely his territory. Delia filled it with treats every night. She cooked for the Big House, so there was always plenty of food. Ash helped himself to sushi, tamales, pakoras, blinzes-whatever the people in the Big House were eating. And there was always a large carton of milk and bottles of fruit juice.

He filled the bowl with food and went to Delia's room.

On one side was her large, saggy bed covered with crocheted pillows and stuffed animals. At the end was a huge crucifix and a picture of Our Lord Jesus with his heart pierced by five swords. Matt found the picture frightening. The crucifix was even worse, because it glowed in the dark. Ash kept his back to it, but he still like Delia's room.

He sprawled over the pillows and pretended to feed the stuffed dog, the teddy bear, the rabbit (_conejo_, Ash corrected). For a while this was fun, then a hollow feeling began to grow inside Ash. These weren't real animals. He could talk to them all he liked. They couldn't understand. In some way he couldn't put into words, they weren't even _there._

Ash turned them all to the wall, to punish them for not being real, and went to his own room. It was much smaller, being half filled by his bed. The walls were covered with pictures Delia had torn out of magazines: movie stars, animals, babies-Ash wasn't thrilled by the babies, but Delia found them irresistible-flowers, news stories. There was one of acrobats standing on one another in a huge pyramid. SIXTY-FOUR! The captain said A NEW RECORD AT THE LUNAR COLONY.

Ash had seen these particular words so often, he knew them by heart. Another picture showed a man holding a bullfrog between two slices of bread. RIBBET ON RYE! The caption said. Ash didn't know what a ribbet was, but Delia laughed every time she looked at it.

He turned on the television and watched soap operas. People were always yelling at one another on soap operas. It didn't make much sense, and when it did, it wasn't interesting. _It's not real, _Ash thought with sudden terror. _It's like the animals. _He could talk and talk and talk, but the people couldn't hear him.

Ash was swept with such an intense feeling of desolation, he thought he would die. He hugged himself to keep from screaming. He gasped with sobs. Tears rolled down his cheeks.

And then-and then- beyond the noise of the soap opera and his own sobs, Ash heard a voice calling. It was clear and strong-a child's voice. And it was real.

Ash ran to the window. Delia always warned him to be careful when he looked out, but he was so excited that he didn't care. At first he only saw the same, bleached blindness of the poppies. Then a shadow crossed the opening. Matt recoiled so quickly, he fell over and landed on the floor.

" What's this dump?" someone asked from outside.

Who is this person or people what will happen? Find out later much much later.


	3. Little House in the Poppy Feilds Part: 2

Remember last chapter. I was gonna stop the story but I just got a review the other night from CrystalMask and I want to thank her for reinspiring to write again.

Overview:

_"What's this dump?" some one asked from outside. _

Chapter 3:

"One of the worker's shacks" said another, higher voice.

"I didn't think anyone was allowed to live in the opium fields."

"Maybe it's a storeroom. Let's try the door."

The door handle rattled. Ash squatted on the floor, his heart pounding. Someone put his face against the window, cupping his hands to see through the gloom. Ash froze. He had wanted company, but this was happening too quickly. He felt like Pedro el Conejo in Senor MacGregor's garden.

"Hey there's a kid in here!"

"What? Let me see." A second face pressed against the window. She had black hair and olive skin like Celia. "Open the window, kid. What's your name?"

But Ash was so terrified, he couldn't squeeze out a single word.

"Maybe he's an idiot," the girls said matter-of-factly. "Hey, are you an idiot?"

Ash shook his head. The girl laughed.

" I know who lives here" the boy said suddenly. "I recognize that picture on the table."

Ash remembered the portrait Delia had given him on his last birthday.

"It's the fat old cook-what's her name?" the boy said. "Anyhow, she doesn't stay with the rest of the servants. This must be her hangout. I didn't know she had a kid." (Okay Delia isn't fat but just picture it okay?)

"Or a husband" the girl remarked.

"Oh, yeah. That explains a lot. I wonder if Father knows. I'll have to ask him."

"You will not!" the girl cried. "You'll get her into trouble."

"Hey this is my family's ranch, and my father told me to keep an eye on things. You're only visiting."

"It doesn't matter. _My _dada says servants have a right to privacy, and he's a United States senator, so his opinion is worth more."

"Your dada changes his opinions more often that his socks," the boy said.

What the girl replied to this Ash couldn't hear. The children were moving away from the house, and he could make out only the indignant tone of her voice. He was shivering all over, as though he'd just met one of the monsters Delia told him haunted the world outside, the _chupacabras_ maybe. The _chupacabras_ sucked your blood and left you dry like an old cantaloupe skin. Things were happening too fast.

But he had liked the girl.

The rest of the day Ash was swept by both fear and joy. He had been warned by Delia never, never show himself at the window. If someone came, he was able to hide himself. But the children had been such a wonderful surprise, he couldn't help running to see them. They were older than he. How much older Ash couldn't tell. They were definitely not adults, though, and they didn't seem dangerous. Still, Delia would be furious if she found out. Ash decided not to tell her.

That night she brought him a coloring book the children had thrown away in the Big House. Only half of it had been used, so Ash spent a pleasant half hour before dinner using the stubby crayons Delia had brought on other occasions. The smell of fried cheese and onions drifted out of the kitchen, and Ash knew she was cooking Azlanto food. This was a special treat. Delia was usually so tired when she returned home, she only heated up leftovers.

He colored an entire meadow with green. His crayon was almost gone, and he had to hold it carefully to use it at all. The green made him feel happy. If only he could look out on such a meadow instead of the blinding white poppies. He was certain grass would be as soft as a bed and smell like rain.

"Very nice _chico_," said Delia, looking over his shoulder.

The last fragment of crayon fell apart in Ash's fingers.

"_!Que lastima! _I'll see if I can find more in the Big House. Those kids are so rich, the wouldn't notice if I took the whole darn box." Delia sighed. "I'll only take a few, though. The mouse is safest when she doesn't leave footprints on the butter.

They had quesadillas and enchiladas for dinner. The food sat heavily in Ash's stomach.

"_Mama,"_ he said without thinking, "tell me again about the kids in the big house."

"Don't call me _Mama_," snapped Delia.

"Sorry" said Ash. The word had slipped out. Delia had told him long ago that she wasn't his real mother. The children on tv had _mamas_, though and Ash had fallen into the habit of thinking of Delia that way.

Sorry about the chapters being all short and everything but I am very tired so yeah. That's it. R&R! ( I'll try and add Misty in next chapter or the one after) geez no rushing.


	4. Little House in the Poppy Feilds Part: 3

Hey everyone I'm back! Yes it's been a while, especially for my other story- anyways on with it!

Disclaimer: I do not own pokemon.

OOOXXXOOO

"I love you more than anything in the world" the woman said quickly. "Never forget that. But you were only loaned to me, _mi __vida_."

Ash had trouble understanding the word _loaned_. It seemed to mean something you gave away for a little while- which meant whoever _loaned _him would want him back.

"Anyhow the kids at the Big House are brats, you better believe it" Delia went on. "They're lazy as cats and just as ungrateful. They make big messes and order the maids to clean them up. And they never say thank you. Even if you work for hours making them special cake with sugar roses and violets and green leaves, they can't say thank you to save their miserable souls. They stuff their selfish mouths and tell you it tastes like mud!"

Celia looked angry, as though the incident had happened recently.

" There's Drew and Daisy" Ash reminded her.

"Daisy's the oldest. She's a real devil! She's seventeen, and there isn't a guy in the farms who's safe from her. But never mind that. It's adult stuff and very boring. Anyhow, Daisy is like her father, which means she's a dog in human clothing. She's going college this year, and we'll all be glad to see the last of her."

"And Drew?" Ash said patiently.

"He's not so bad. I sometimes think he might have a soul. He spends time with the Mendoza girls. They're okay, although what they're doing with our crowd would puzzle God Himself."

"What does Drew look like?" It sometimes took a long time to steer Delia to the things Ash wanted to know- in this case, the names of the children who'd appeared outside the window.

"He's thirteen. Big for his age. Green hair. Green eyes."

_That must have been the boy,_ thought Ash.

"Right now the Mendozas are visiting. May's thirteen too, very pretty with brown hair and blue eyes."

_That must be the girl_, Ash decided.

"She at least has good manners. Her sister, Misty, is about your age and plays with Paul. Well, some might call it play. Most of the time she winds up crying her eyes out."

"Why?" said Ash, who enjoyed hearing about Paul's misdeeds.

"Paul is Daisy times 10! He can melt anyone's heart with those wide, innocent eyes. Everyone falls for it, but not me. He gave Misty a bottle of lemon soda today. 'It's the last one,' he said. 'It's really cold and I saved it especially for you,' he said. Do you know what was in it?"

"No," said Ash, wriggling with anticipation.

"Pee! Can you believe it? He even put the cap back on. Oh, she was crying, poor little thing. She never learns."

Delia suddenly ran out of steam. She yawned broadly and fatigue settle over her right before Ash's eyes. She had been working from dawn to well after dark, and she had cooked a fresh meal at home as well. "I'm sorry, _chico_. When the well's empty, it's empty."

Ash rinsed the plates and stacked the dishwasher while Delia took a shower. She came out in her voluminous pink bathrobe and nodded sleepily at the tidied table. "You're a good kid," she said.

She picked him up and hugged him all the way to his bed. No matter how tired Delia was- and sometimes she almost fell over with exhaustion- she never neglected this ritual. She tucked Ash in and lit the holy candle in front of the statue of the Virgin of Guadalupe. She had brought it with her all the way from her village in Aztlan. The Virgin's robe was slightly chipped, which Delia had disguised with a spray of artificial flowers. The Virgin's feet rested on dusty plaster roses and Her star spangled robe was stained with wax, but her face gazed out over the candle with the same gentleness it had in Delia's bedroom long ago.

"I'm in the next room _mi __vida_," whispered the woman, kissing the top of Ash's head. "You get scared, you call me."

Soon the house shook with Delia's snores. To Ash, the sound was as normal as the thunder that sometimes echoed over the hills. It in no way kept him from sleep. "Drew and May" he whispered, testing the words in his mouth. He didn't know what he would say to the strange children if they appeared again, but he was determined to try to talk to them. He practiced several sentences: "My name is Ash. I live here. Do you want to color pictures?"

No, he couldn't mention the coloring book or the crayons. They were stolen.

"Would you like some food?" Bu the food might be stolen too. "Do you want to play?" Good. Drew and May could suggest something and Ash would be off the hook.

"Do you want to play? Do you want to play?" he murmured as his eyes closed and the gentle face of the Virgin of Guadalupe floated in the candle light.

OOOXXXOOOXXXOOOXXXOOO

The end of this chapter! Sorry they've all been very short but next time I'll try harder, PROMISE!

11/19/07

Thanks to this reviewer:

Crystal Mask


	5. Property of What?

Yea! I know it's soon and everything but I guess I have too much time on my hands. My other stories won't be updated because this is a library book which this is the 3rd time I have taken it out this year so I need to finish up. So yeah let's start!

OOOXXXOOOXXXOOO

Delia left in the morning, and Ash spent the entire day waiting for the children. He had given up hope when, just before sunset, he heard voices approaching through the poppy fields.

He planted himself in front of the window and waited.

"There he is! See Misty, I told you I wasn't lying," cried May. Her hand rested on the shoulder of a much smaller girl. "He won't talk to us, but you're about his age. Maybe he won't be afraid of you." May pushed the girl ahead of her and fell back to wait with Drew.

Misty wasn't at all shy about coming up to the window. "Hey boy!" She yelled, rapping the glass with her fist. "What's your name? Do you want to play?"

With one blow, she stole Ash's carefully prepared speech. He stared at her, unable to think of another opening.

"Well is it yes or no?" Misty turned toward the others. "Make him unlock the door."

"That's up to him" said Drew.

Ash wanted to say he didn't have the key, but he was unable to get the words out.

"At least he isn't hiding today" remarked May.

"If you can't unlock the door, open the window," Misty said.

Ash tried knowing it wouldn't work. Delia had nailed the window shut. He threw up his hands.

"He understands what we say" said Drew.

"Hey, boy! If you don't do something quick, we're going away" Misty shouted.

Ash thought desperately. He needed something to interest them. He held up his finger, as Delia did when she wanted him to wait. He nodded his head to show that he agreed with Misty's demand and was about to _do something_.

"What does that mean?" said May.

"Beats me. Maybe he's a mute and can't talk," Drew guessed.

Ash raced to his bedroom. He ripped the picture of the man with the bullfrog sandwich from the wall. It made Delia laugh. Maybe it would make these children laugh. He ran back and pressed the newspaper against the window. The three children came close to study it.

"What's it say?" asked Misty.

"' Ribbit on rye'" read Drew. "Do you get it? It's a bullfrog going _ribbit ribbit ribbit_, and it's between two slices of rye bread. That's pretty funny."

May giggled, but Misty looked uncertain. "People don't eat bullfrogs" she said. "I mean not when they're _alive_."

"It's a joke dum-dum"

"I'm not a dum-dum! It's mean and nasty to eat bullfrogs! I don't think it's funny at all."

"Save me from the eejits" said Drew, rolling his eyes.

"I'm not an eejit either!"

"Oh lighten up Maria" May said.

"You brought me out here to see a boy, and it was miles and _miles_ across the fields, and I'm tired and the boy won't talk. I hate you!"

Ash stared at the scene with concentration. That wasn't the result he wanted at all. Misty was crying, May looked angry, and Drew had turned his back on both of them. Ash rapped on the window. When Misty looked up, he waved the picture and then waded it into a ball. He threw it with all his force across the room.

"See, he agrees with me" cried Misty through her tears.

"This is getting weirder by the minute" said Drew. "I knew we shouldn't have brought the eejit."

"I thought the boy would talk to kid his own size" May said. "Come one Misty we have to get home before dark."

"I'm not walking anywhere!" the little girl flopped down on the ground.

"Well I won't carry you fatso."

"Just leave her" said Drew. He started walking off, and after a moment May followed him.

Ash was appalled. If the big kids went away, then Misty would be all alone. It was going to be dark soon, and Delia wouldn't return for hours. Misty would be all alone with nothing but the empty poppy fields and the . . .

The _chupacabras,_ who came out after dark and sucked your juices and left you dry like an old cantaloupe skin!

Suddenly Ash knew what he had to do. Misty had walked a few steps away from the window before sitting sown again. She was shouting insults at the vanished Drew and May. Ash grabbed the big iron cooking pot Delia used to make _menudo_ and swung it before he could worry much about her reaction. She would be furious! But he was saving Misty's life. He smashed out the glass in the window. It fell in a tinkling jangling mass to the ground. Misty jumped to her feet. Drew and Mat rose up instantly from the poppy field, where they'd been hiding.

"Holy frijoles!" said Drew. All three stood open mouthed, staring at the empty hole where the window had been.

"My name is Ash. I live here. Do you want to play?" said Ash because he couldn't think of another thing to say.

"He _can_ talk" said May after the first shock had died away.

"Is that how you usually open a window kid?" Drew said.

"Stay back Misty, there's glass all over." He stepped carefully to the opening and knocked out the remaining shards with a stick. Then he leaned inside to look around. Ash had to hold on to keep himself from bolting to the other room. "This is creepy! The windows nailed shut. What are you, some kind of prisoner?"

"I live here" Ash said.

"You told us that already"

"Do you want to play?"

"Maybe he's like a parrot and knows only a few words" suggested May.

"_I_ want to play" said Misty. Ash looked at her with approval. The girl was struggling in May's arms, obviously trying to get to him. Drew shook his head and moved away. He looked like he was really going to leave this time.

Ash came to a decision. It was frightening, but he'd never had an opportunity like this before and might never have it again. He shoved a chair to the opening, scrambled up, and jumped.

"No!" shouted Drew, running forward to catch him. He was too late.

A terrible pain lanced through Ash's feet. He fell forward, and his hands and knees landed on the shards of glass.

"He wasn't wearing shoes! Oh man! Oh man! What're we going to do!" Drew pulled Ash up and swung him onto a clear patch of ground.

Ash stared with amazement at the blood dripping from his feet and hands. His knees sprouted rivulets of red.

"Pull out the glass!" cried May in a high, scared voice. "Misty, stay away!"

"I want to see!" yelled the little girl. Ash heard a slap and Misty's shriek of outrage. His head was swimming. He wanted to throw up, but before he could, everything went black.

* * *

He woke up to the sensation of being carried. He was sick to his stomach, but worse that his body was trembling in a frightening way. He screamed as loud as he could.

"Great!" panted Drew, who supported Ash's shoulders. May had his legs. Her shirt and pants were soaked with blood, _his_ blood. Ash screamed again.

"Be quiet!" Drew shouted. "We're running as fast as we can!"

The poppies, now blue in the long shadows of the hills, stretched away in all directions. Drew and May were jogging along a dirt path. Ash's breath caught with sobs. He could hardly get air.

"Stop!" cried May. "We have to let Misty catch up." The two children squatted down and let Ash's weight rest on the ground. Presently, Ash heard the patter of smaller feet.

"I want to rest too" demanded Misty. "It's miles and _miles_. I'm going to tell Dada you slapped me."

"Be my guest" said May.

"Everyone be quiet" Drew ordered. "You've stopped bleeding, kid, so I guess you're not in too much danger. What's your name again?"

"Ash" Misty answered for him.

"We aren't far from the house, Ash, and you're in luck. The doctor's spending the night. Do you hurt a lot?"

"I don't know" said Ash.

"Yes, you do. You screamed" Misty said.

"I don't know what _a lot_ is" Ash explained. "I haven't hurt like this before."

"Well, you've lost blood- but not too much" Drew added as Ash began to tremble again.

"It sure looks like a lot" said Misty.

"Shut up eejit"

The other children rose, carrying Ash between them. Misty followed, complaining loudly about the distance and at being called an eejit.

A kind of heavy sleepiness fell over Ash as he was swayed along. The pain had died down, and Drew said he hadn't lost too much blood. He was too dazed to worry about what Delia would say when she saw the broken window.

They reached the edge of the poppy fields as the last streaks of sunlight slid behind the hills. The dirt path gave way to a wide lawn. It was a shimmering green, growing deeper with the blue light of evening. Ash had never seen so much green in his life.

_It's a meadow,_ he thought, drowsily. _ And it smells like rain._

They started up a flight of wide, marble steps that shone softly in the darkening air. On both sides were orange trees, and all at once lamps went on among the leaves. Lights outlined the white walls of a vast house above, with pillars and statues and doorways going who knew where. In the center of an arch was the carved outline of a scorpion.

"Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Came a flurry of women's voices as they swept down the stairs to lift Ash from Drew's and May's arms.

"Who is he?" asked the maids. They were wearing black dresses with white aprons and starched, white caps. One of them, a severe-looking female with deep creases down either side of her mouth went ahead to open doors.

"I found him in a house in the poppy fields" replied Drew.

"That's Delia's place" a maid said. "She's too stuck up to live with the rest of us"

"If she's hiding a child, I'm not surprised. Who's your father, kid?" said the woman who was carrying Ash. Her apron smelled like sunlight, the way Delia's did when it came straight from the clothesline. Ash stared at the pin fastened to the woman's collar, a silver scorpion with it's tail curved up. Beneath the scorpion was a nametag that said JESSIE. Ash didn't feel well enough to talk, and what did it matter who his father was, anyhow? He didn't know the answer, either.

"He doesn't talk much" said May.

"Where's the doctor?" Drew said.

"We'll have to wait. He's treating your grandfather. At least we can clean the kid up" said Jessie.

The maids opened the door to reveal the most beautiful room Ash had ever seen. It had carved wooden beams on the ceiling and wallpaper decorated with hundreds of birds. To Ash's reeling eyes, they seemed to be moving. He saw a couch upholstered with flowers that shaded from lavender to rose like the feathers on a dove's wings. It was to this couch that Jessie was carrying him.

"I'm too dirty" Ash murmured. He had been yelled at before from climbing on Celia's bed with muddy feet.

"You can say that again" snapped Jessie. The other women opened a crisp, white sheet and laid it over the wonderful couch before Ash was laid down. He thought he could get into just as much trouble for getting blood on that sheet.

Jessie fetched a pair of tweezers and began pulling out fragments of glass from his hands and feet. "Ay!" she murmured as she dropped the bits into a cup. "You're brave not to cry"

But Ash didn't feel brave at all. He didn't feel anything. His body seemed far away, and he watched Jessie as though she was an image on a TV screen.

"He sure screamed earlier" observed Misty. She was dancing around, trying to see everything that happened.

"Don't act so superior. You yell your head off if you get an itty-bitty splinter in your finger" May said.

"Do not!"

"Do so!"

"I hate you!"

"Ask me if I care" said May. Both she and Drew watched in fascination as blood began to well out of Ash's cuts again.

"I'm going to be a doctor when I grow up" announced May. "This is very good experience for me"

The other maids had brought a bucket of water and towels, but they didn't attempt to clean Ash up until Jessie gave them permission.

"Be careful. The right foot is badly cut" said Jessie.

The air hummed in Ash's ears. He felt warm water and suddenly the pain returned. It stabbed on his foot all the way to the top of his head. He opened his mouth to scream, but nothing came out. His throat had closed with shock.

"Oh, God! There must be a glass left inside" cried Jessie. She grabbed Ash's shoulders and ordered him not to be afraid. She seemed almost angry.

The fogginess that had surrounded Ash had vanished. His feet, his hands, his knees throbbed with more pain than he had known existed.

"I told you he was crying earlier" said Misty.

"Be quiet!" said May.

"Look! There's writing on his foot" the little girl cried. She tried to get close, but May thrust her back.

"_I'm_ the one who's supposed to be a doctor. Rats! I can't read it. There's too much blood" She snatched a washcloth and wiped Ash's foot.

The pain wasn't as bad this time, but he couldn't help moaning.

"You're hurting him, you bully!" shrieked Misty.

"Wait! I can just make it out . . . . 'Property of' –the writing is so tiny! –'Property of the Alacran Estate'."

"'Property of the Alacran Estate'? That's us. It doesn't make any sense" said Drew.

"What's going on?" came a voice Ash hadn't heard before. A large, fierce-looking man burst into the room. Drew immediately straightened himself up. May and even Misty looked alarmed.

"We found a kid in the poppy fields, Father" said Drew. "He hurt himself, and I thought the doctor . . . the doctor –"

"You idiot! You need a vet for this little beast!" the man roared. "How dare you defile this house?"

"He was bleeding –" began Drew.

"Yes! All over the sheet! We'll have to burn it. Take the creature outside now."

Jessie hesitated, obviously bewildered.

The man leaned forward and whispered into he ear.

A look of horror crossed Jessie's face. She instantly scooped up Ash and ran. Drew dashed forward to open the doors. His face had turned white. "How _dare_ he talk to me like that" he hissed.

"He didn't mean it" said May, who was dragging Misty along behind.

"Oh, yes he did. He hates me" Drew said.

Jessie hurried down the steps and dumped Ash roughly onto the lawn. Without a word, she turned and fled back to the house.

* * *

Whew! Told ya, I made a longer chappy!! I might not update so soon but I'll tell ya that I already started the next chapter!

I'd like to thank these reviewers for . . . . well . . . . . reviewing:

CrystalMask

xArielle


	6. Misty

Hey! I'm back again with more. Poor Ash huh? I have a problem. I can never see my updated story on fan fiction and it bothers me because if I can't see then who else can right? So yeah, on with the story!

* * *

Ash gazed up. Hundreds of stars lay in a bright smear across a velvety, black sky. It was the Milky Way, which Delia said had spurted from the Virgin's breast when she first fed Baby Jesus. The grass pressed against Ash's back. It wasn't as soft as he'd imagined, but it smelled fresh, and the coolness of the air was good, too. He felt hot and feverish.

The terrifying pain had subsided to a dull ache. Ash was glad to be outside again. The sky felt familiar and safe. The same stars hung over the little house in the poppy fields. Delia never took him outside by day, but sometimes at night she and he would sit in the doorway of the little house. She would tell him stories and point out to a falling star. "That's a prayer being answered by God" she explained. "One of the angels is flying down to carry God's orders."

Ash prayed now for Delia to come and rescue him. She'd be upset about the window, but he could live with that. No matter how loud she yelled, he knew that underneath she still loved him. He watched the sky but no star fell.

"Look at him. He's just lying there like an animal" said May from not far away. Ash jumped. He's forgotten about the children.

"He _is_ an animal" Drew said after a pause. They were sitting on the first step leading to the house. Misty was busy picking oranges from the trees and rolling them down the stairs.

"I don't understand" said May.

"I've been stupid. I should have known what he- _it_- was the minute I saw it No servant would be allowed to keep a child or live away from the others. Daisy told me about the situation, only I thought _it_ was living somewhere else. In a zoo, maybe. Wherever those things are kept."

"What are you talking about?"

"Ash's a clone" said Steven.

May gasped. "He can't be! He doesn't-I've seen clones. They're horrible! They drool and mess their pants. They make pokemon noises."

"This one's different. Daisy told me. Technicians are supposed to destroy the minds at birth-it's the law. But Goivanni or ' The Boss' as everyone calls him wanted his to grow up like a real boy. (A/N: I will call him the boss until a time comes when I feel his real name should be used.) He's so rich, he can break any law he wants."

"That's _disgusting_. Clones aren't people" cried May.

"Of course they aren't"

May hugged her knees. "It makes me feel goose bumpy. I actually touched it. I got its blood on me- Misty, stop rolling oranges at us!"

"Make me" jeered Misty.

"In about one second I'm gonna roll _you_ down the stairs"

The little girl stuck out her tongue. She threw a fruit so hard, it shot off the bottom step and landed with a soft plop on the grass. "Want me to peel you one, Ash?" she called.

"Don't" said May. The seriousness in her voice made the little girl pause. "Ash's a clone. You mustn't go near it."

"What's a clone?"

"A bad animal."

"How bad?" Misty said with interest.

Before May could answer, the fierce man and the doctor appeared at the top of the stairs.

"You should have called me at once" the doctor said. "It's my job to make sure it stays healthy."

"I didn't find out until I walked past the living room. There was blood all over the place. I'm afraid I lost my head and ordered Jessie to throw it outside." The fierce man seemed less dangerous now, but Ash still tried to wriggle away. The movement sent a wave of agony through his foot.

"We'll have to take it somewhere else. I can't operate on the lawn."

"There's an empty room in the servants' quarters" said the fierce man. He shouted for Jessie, who pattered down the steps with a furious look on her face. She carted Ash to a different part of the house, a warren of dim hallways that smelled of mold. Drew, May, and Misty were ordered away, to take showers and change their clothes.

Ash was deposited onto a hard, bare mattress. The room was long and narrow. At one end was the door and at the other, a window covered with iron grillwork.

"I need more light" the doctor said tersely. The fierce man brought a lamp. "Hold it down" the doctor ordered Jessie.

"Please, Master. It's a filthy clone" the woman objected.

"Get moving if you know what's good for you" the fierce man growled. Jessie threw herself across Ash's body and grasped his ankles. He weight made it almost impossible to breathe.

"Stop . . . stop . . ." the boy wailed. The doctor probed in the deepest cut with a pair of tweezers as Ash struggled and begged and finally broke down entirely when the sliver of glass was extracted. Jessie held onto his ankles so tightly, her fingers burned like fire. When at last the wound was cleaned and stitched, Ash was set free. He rolled himself into a ball and looked fearfully at his tormentors to see if they planned anything else.

"I've given it a tetanus shot" said the doctor, putting away his instruments. "There may be permanent damage to the right foot."

"Can I send it back to the poppy fields?" inquired the fierce man.

"Too late. The children have seen it."

The men and Rosa went out. Ash wondered what would happen next. If he prayed very hard, Delia would surely come for him now. She would hug him and carry him off to bed. Then she would the holy candle in front of the Virgin of Guadalupe.

Except that the Virgin was far away in the little house, and Delia might not even know where he was.

Jessie slammed open the door and laid newspapers all over the floor. "The doctor says you're house broken, but I'm not taking chances" she said. "Do it in the bucket if you've got the brains" She placed a bucket next to the bed and picked up the lamp.

"Wait" Ash said.

Jessie paused. She looked distinctly unfriendly.

"Can you tell Delia where I am?"

The maid smiled maliciously. "Delia isn't allowed to see you. Doctor's orders." She went out and closed the door.

The room was dark except for a faint, yellow light filtering through the bars of the window. Ash craned his head up to see where it was coming from. He saw a bulb hanging from a wire from the ceiling. It was as small as the lights Delia used to decorate the Christmas tree, but it shone valiantly and softened what would otherwise have been complete darkness.

He could see nothing else except the bed and the bucket. The walls were bare, the ceiling high and shadowy. The narrowness of the room made Ash feel as though he were locked in a box.

He had never, never gone to bed alone. Always, even though it might be very late, he could count on Delia's return. When he woke in the night, her snores the next room made him feel safe. Here there was nothing, not even the wind over the poppy fields or the murmur of the doves in their nests on the roof.

The silence was terrifying.

Ash cried steadily. His grief went on and on. When it lessened, he remembered Delia and started crying again. He looked up with tear-blurred eyes at the little yellow light, and it seemed to waver like a flame. It came to him that it was like the holy candle in front of the Virgin. After all, the Virgin could go wherever she liked. She couldn't be locked up like a person. She could fly through the air and even knock down walls, like the super heroes Ash saw on TV- only She wouldn't do that, of course, because she was Jesus' mother. She could be standing outside right now, watching his window. Something let go inside of Ash. He sighed deeply and soon, he was fast asleep.

He awoke to the sound of someone opening the door. Ash tried to sit up, but the pain made him lie down again. A flashlight shone in his eyes.

"Good. I was afraid this was the wrong room." A small shape ran over to his bed, unslung a backpack, and began taking out food.

"Misty?" asked Ash.

"Rosa said they didn't give you dinner. She's so mean! I have a dog at home, and if he doesn't get fed, he howls. Do you like mango juice? It's my favorite."

Ash suddenly realized he was very thirsty. He drank the whole bottle without stopping. Misty had brought hunks of cheese and pepperoni. "I'm going to put them in your mouth one at a time- but you have to promise not to bite me."

Ash indignantly said he never bit people.

"Well, you never know. May says clones are as vicious as werewolves. Did you see that story on TV about the boy who got hair all over him when the moon was full?"

"Yes!" Ash was delighted he and Misty had something in common. He had locked himself in the bathroom after that movie until Delia came home.

"_You_ don't grow hair or anything, do you?" asked Misty.

"Never" Ash swore.

"Good" Misty said. She popped bits of food into Ash's mouth until he couldn't eat anymore.

They talked about movies and then about stories Delia had told Ash of the dangers after dark. Ash found that if he lay perfectly still, his wounds didn't hurt too much. Misty bounced around and occasionally hurt him, but he was afraid to scold her. She might get angry and leave.

"Delia hangs charms over the doors to keep out monsters" Ash told Misty.

"Does that work?"

"Of course. They also keep out dead people who aren't ready to stay in their graves."

"There aren't any charms here" Misty said nervously.

That thought had occurred to Ash too, but he didn't want her to go away. "We don't need charms in the Big House" he explained. "There are too many people, and monsters hate crowds."

Misty's interests drove Ash to greater and greater heights. He talked feverishly, unable to stop, and he ground his teeth from sheer nervousness. He'd never had so much attention in hid life. Delia tried to listen to him, but she was usually too tired. Misty hung on his words as though her life depended on them.

"Do you know about the _chupacabras_?" Ash said.

"What's . . . a _chupacabras_?" asked Misty. Her voice sounded a little high and breathless.

"You know. The goat sucker."

"It sounds nasty." Misty moved closer to him.

"It is! It's got spikes down its back and claws and orange teeth, _and it sucks blood_."

"You're kidding!"

"Delia says it has the face of a man, only the eyes are black inside. Like empty holes" said Ash.

"Ugh!"

"It likes goats best, but it'll eat horses or cows- or a child if it's really hungry."

Misty was pressed right up against him now. She put her arms around him and he gritted his teeth to keep from wincing with pain. He noticed that her hands were icy.

"Last month Delia said it got a whole pen of chickens" Ash said.

"Wait a minute." Misty jumped off the bed and gathered up the newspapers Jessie had spread out on the floor.

"We don't need covers" Ash objected as she began arranging them on the bed.

"They make me feel safer." Misty crawled under the papers.

"This isn't too bad. I sleep with my dog all the time- are you sure you don't bite?"

"Of course not" said Ash.

"Well that's all right" she said, snuggling closer to him. Ash's mind churned over the punishment Misty would have to endure because she had brought him food. He didn't know what the times tables were, but they were probably something awful.

So much had happened in such a short time, and Ash couldn't understand half of it. Why had he been thrown out on the lawn when everyone had been so eager to help him at first? Why had the fierce man called him a "little beast"? And why had May told Misty he was a "bad animal"?

It had something to do with being a clone also, perhaps, with the writing on his foot. Ash had once asked Delia about the words on his foot, and she said it was something they put on babies to keep them from getting lost. He'd assumed everyone was tattooed. From Steven's reaction, it seemed everyone wasn't.

Misty wriggled and sighed and lung her arms out in her sleep. The newspapers quickly feel to the floor. Ash had to scoot to the extreme edge of the bed to keep from being kicked. At one point she seemed to have a nightmare. She called "Mama . . . Mama . . ." Ash tried to wake her, but she punched him.

In the first blue light of dawn Ash forced him self to get up. He gasped at the pain in his feet. It was worse than last night. He dropped to his hands and knees and moved as noiselessly as possible, pulling the bucket along with him. When he got to the end of the bed where he thought Misty couldn't see him, he tried to pee silently. Misty turned over. The noise made Ash jump. The bucket tipped over. He had to fetch newspapers to sop up the mess, and then he had to rest with his back against the wall because his hands and feet hurt so much.

"Bad girl!" shouted Jessie, flinging open the door. Behind her was a covey of maids, all craning their necks to see what was inside. "We turned the house upside down looking for you" Jessie yelled. "All the time you were hiding out with this filthy clone. Boy, are you in trouble! You're going to be sent home at once."

Misty sat up, blinking at the sudden light from the doorway. Jessie whisked her off the bed and wrinkled her nose at Ash cowering against the wall. "So you aren't housebroken, you little brute" she snarled, kicking aside the sodden newspapers. "I honestly don't know how Delia stood it all those years."

* * *

Yay! I finished another chapter! I hope this one is long enough because it took me five hours! Yes, I am very slow, not typing, but thinking. I'd like to thank these reviewers for reviewing but before that, I'd like to recommend a story.

SPREAD THE WORD!! THE STORY IS CALLED TEAM ROCKET? YEP. IT MAY NOT LOOK LIKE MUCH BUT IT DEFINETLY IS AWSOME!!!!

Now, I'd like to thanks these reviewers:

CrystalMask

xArielle

Hiroshi's socks

Bentley the great


	7. Prison

_It has been an EXTREMLY long wait!! So sorry!! So yeah, here is another update, again sorry!! _

_Ash: 6 yrs._

* * *

That night, when Jessie brought him dinner, Ash asked her when Misty was coming back.

"Never!" snarled the maid. "She and her sister have been sent home, and I say good riddance! Just because their father's a senator, the Mendoza girls think they can turn their noses up at us. Pah! Senator Mendoza isn't too proud to have his paw out when The Boss hands out money."

Everyday the doctor visited. Ash shrank from him, but the man didn't seem to notice. He grasped Ash's foot in a business like way, doused it with disinfectant, and checked the stitches. Once he gave Ash a shot of Antibiotics because the wound looked puffy and the boy was running a fever. The doctor made no effort to start a conversation, and Ash was happy to leave things that way.

The man talked to Jessie, however. They seemed to enjoy each other's company. The doctor was tall and bony. His head was fringed with his hair like the fluff on a ducks bottom, and he sprayed saliva when he talked. Jessie was also tall and very strong, as Ash had found out when he tried to get around her. Her face was set in a permanent scowl, although she occasionally smiled when the doctor told one of his bad jokes. Ash found Jessie's smile even more horrid than her scowl.

"The Boss hasn't asked about the beast in years," remarked the doctor.

Ash understood that the beast was himself.

"Probably forgotten it exists," muttered Jessie. She was busy scrubbing out the corners of the room. She was on her hands and knees with a bucket of soapy water by her side.

"I wish I could count on it," the doctor said. "Sometimes The Boss seems definitely senile. He won't talk for days and stares out the window. Other times he's sharp as the old _bandido_ he once was."

"He's still a bandit," said Jessie.

"Don't say that, not even to me. The Boss's rage is something you don't want to see."

It seemed to Ash that both the maid and the doctor shivered slightly. He wondered why The Boss was so frightening, since the man was said to be old and weak. Ash knew he was The Boss's clone, but he was unclear about the meaning of the word. Perhaps The Boss had loaned him to Delia and would someday want him back.

At the thought of Delia, Ash's eyes filled with tears. He swallowed them back. He would not show weakness in front of his tormentors. He knew instinctively they would seize on it to hurt him even more.

"You're wearing perfume, Jessie," the doctor said slyly.

"Ha! You think I'd put on anything to please you, James?" The maid stood up and wiped her soapy hands on her apron.

"I think you're wearing it behind your ears."

"It's the disinfectant I used to clean out the bath," said Jessie. "To a doctor, it probably smells good."

"So it does, my thorny little Jessie." James tried to grab her, but she wriggled out of his arms.

"Stop it!" she cried, pushing him away roughly. In spite of her unfriendliness, the doctor seemed to like her. It made Ash uncomfortable. He felt the two were united against him.

When they left the room, Jessie always locked the door. Ash tried the knob each time to see whether she had forgotten, but she never did. He pulled on the window bars. They were as firmly attached as ever. He sat disconsolately on the floor.

If only he could see something interesting outside the window. A section of wall blocked off most of what lay beyond. Through a narrow gap he could see a green lawn and bright pink flowers, but only enough to make him want more. A think ribbon of sky let in daylight and at night showed a few stars. Ash listened in vain for voices.

Scar tissues had formed a knot on the bottom of his foot. He inspected the writing frequently –Property of the Alacran Estate –but the scar sliced through the tiny lettering. It was more difficult to make out the words.

* * *

One day a frightening argument erupted between Jessie and the doctor. "The Boss wants me by his side. I'll come back in a month," the man said.

"It's just an excuse to get away from me," said Jessie.

"I have to work, you stupid woman."

"Don't you call me stupid!" the woman snarled. "I know a lying coyote when I see one."

"I don't have a choice," James said stiffly.

"Then why not take me with you? I could be a housekeeper."

"The Boss doesn't need one."

"Oh, sure! How convenient! Let me tell you, it's horrible working here," she stormed. "The other servants laugh at me. 'She takes care of the beast,' they say. 'She's no better than a beast herself.' The treat me like scum."

"You exaggerating."

"No, I'm not!" she cried. "Please take me with you, James. Please! I love you. I'll do anything for you!"

The doctor pried his arms away. "You're hysterical. I'll leave you some pills and see you in a month."

As soon as the door closed, Jessie hurled the bucket against the wall and cursed the doctor by all his ancestors. Her face turned chalky with rage, except for two splotches of red on her cheeks. Ash had never seen anyone so furious, and he found it terrifying.

"You're responsible for this!" Jessie shrieked. She pulled Ash up by his hair.

"Ow! Ow!" yelled Ash.

"Bleating won't save you, you good for nothing animal. No one can hear you. This whole wing of the house is empty because _you_ are in it! They don't even put the pigs down here!" Jessie thrust her face close to his. Her cheekbones stood out beneath her taut skin. Her eyes were wide, and Ash could see white all around the edges. She looked like a demon in one of the comic books Delia got him from church.

"I could kill you," Jessie said quietly. "I could bury your body under the floor –and I _might_ do it." She let him slump to the floor again. He rubbed his head where she had pulled the hair. "Or I might not. You'll never know until it's too late. But one thing you'd better understand: I'm your master now, and if you make me angry –watch out!"

She slammed the door as she left. Ash sat paralyzed for a few minutes. His heart pounded and his body was slimy with sweat. What did she mean? What else could she possibly do? After a while he stopped trembling and his breathing returned to normal. He tried the door, but not even rage had kept Jessie from locking it. He limped to the window and watched the bright strip of grass and flowers beyond the wall.

* * *

That night two gardeners, who had refused to look at Ash, removed his bead. Jessie watched with a look of bitter satisfaction. She took away the waste bucket Ash had been forced to use since he arrived.

"You can go in the corner on the newspapers," said Jessie. "That's what dogs do."

Ash had to lie on the cement floor without any covers and of course, without a pillow. He slept badly and his body ached like a tooth in the morning. When he had to use the newspapers in the corner, he felt dirty and ashamed. How long could this go on?

Jessie merely plunked down the breakfast tray and left. She didn't scold him. At first Ash was relieved, but aster a while he began to feel bad. Even angry words were better than silence. At home he would have had the stuffed bear and dog and _Pedro el Conejo_ for company. The didn't talk, but he could hug them. Where were they now? Had Delia thrown them out because she knew he wasn't coming back?

Ash ate and cried at the same time. The tears ran down into his mouth and onto the dry toast Jessie had brought. He had toast and oatmeal, scrambled eggs with chorizo sausage, a plastic mug of orange juice, a strip of cold bacon. At least she wasn't going to stave him.

In the evening Jessie brought him a flavorless stew with cement colored gravy. Ash was given no utensils and had to put his face in the bowl like a dog. With the stew came boiled squash, an apple, and a bottle of water. He ate because he was hungry. He hated the food because it reminded him of how wonderful Delia's cooking had been.

* * *

Days passed. Jessie never spoke to him. A shutter seemed to have come down over her face. She neither met Ash's eyes nor responded when he asked her questions. Her silence made him frantic. He talked feverishly when she arrived, but he might have been a stuffed bear for all the notice she took of him.

Meanwhile the smell in the room became appalling. Jessie cleaned the corner every day, but the stench clung to the cement. Ash got used to it. Jessie didn't, and one day she exploded into another fit of rage.

"Isn't it enough that I have to wait on you?" she cried as he cowered next to the window. "I'd rather clean a henhouse! At least they're useful! What good are you?"

Then an idea seemed to occur to her. She halted in mid-rant and looked at Ash in such a calculating way, he felt cold right down to his toes. What was she planning now?

Back came the sullen gardeners. They built a low barrier across the door. Ash watched with interest. The barrier was as high as his waist –not tall enough to keep him in, but high enough to slow him down if he tried to escape. Jessie stood in the hallway, watching and criticizing. The gardeners said a few words Ash had never heard before, and Jessie turned dark with rage. But she didn't reply.

After the barrier was finished, Jessie lifted Ash outside and held him tightly. He looked around eagerly. The hallway was gray and empty, hardly more interesting than the room, but at least it was different.

Then something happened that made Ash's mouth fall open in surprise. The gardeners trundled down the hall with wheelbarrows piled high with sawdust. They dumped them one after the other, into his room. Back and forth they went until the floor was completely full of sawdust heaped as high as the barrier in the doorway.

Jessie suddenly swung him up by his arms and tossed him inside. He landed with a _whump_ and sat up coughing.

"That's what dirty beasts get to live in," she said, and slammed the door.

Ash was so startled that he didn't know what to think. The whole room was full of the gray- brown powder. It was soft. He could sleep on it like a bed. He waded through the sawdust trying to figure out why it had suddenly appeared in his world. At least it was something different.

Ash tunneled. He heaped the shaving into hills. He threw it into the air to watch it patter down in a plume of dust. He amused himself this way for a long time, but gradually Ash ran out of things to do with sawdust.

Jessie brought him food at sundown. She spoke not a single word. He ate slowly, watching the tiny yellow light that belonged to the Virgin and listening for far-off noises from the rest of the house.

* * *

"What in God's green earth have you done?" cried the doctor when he saw Ash's new environment.

"It's deep litter," said Jessie.

"Are you crazy?"

"What do you care?"

"Of course I care, Jessie," the doctor said, trying to take her hand. She threw him off. "And I have to care about the health of this clone. Good God, do you know what would happen if he died?"

"You're only worried about what would happen to you. But don't lose sleep over it, James. I grew up on a poultry farm, and deep litter is by far the best way to keep chickens healthy. You let the hens run around in it, and their filth settles to the bottom. It saves their feet from getting infected."

James laughed out loud. "You're a very strange woman, Jessie, but I have to admit the beast's in good condition. You know, I remember it talking when it lived in Delia's house. Now it doesn't say a thing."

"It's a sullen evil tempered animal," she said.

The doctor sighed. "Clones go that way in the end. I did think this one was brighter than most."

Ash said nothing, hunched as he was in the corner as far from the pair as he could get. Long days of solitude in Delia's house had taught him to be quiet, and any attention from James or Jessie could result in pain.

* * *

The days passed with agonizing slowness, followed by nights of misery. Ash could see little from the barred window. The pink flowers withered. The strip of sky was blue by day and black at night. He dreamed of the little house, of Delia, of a meadow so intensly green, it made him cry when he woke up.

And gradually it came to him that Delia had forgotten him, that she was never going to rescue him from this prison. The idea was so painful, Ash thrust it from his mind. He refused to think about her, or when he did, he quickly thought of something else to drive her image from his mind. After a while he forgot what she looked like, except in dreams.

But Ash still fought against the dullness that threatened to overwhelm him. He hid caches of food under the sawdust, not to eat later, but to attract bugs. The window wasn't glassed, and so all sorts of creatures could come in through the bars.

First he attracted wasps to a chunk of apple. Then he lured a glorious, bussing fly to a piece of spoiled meat. It sat on the meat, just as though it had been invited to dinner, and rubbed its hairy paws as it gloated over the meal. Afterward Ash discovered a writhing mass of worms living in the meat, and he watched them grow and turn into buzzing flies themselves. He found this extremely interesting.

Then, of course, there were the cockroaches. Small, brown ones struggled through the sawdust; and big, leathery bombers zoomed through the air and made Jessie scream.

"You're a monster!" she cried. "It wouldn't surprise me if you _ate_ them!"

Oh, yes, there were all kinds of entertainment in bugs.

One magical day a dove pushed its way through the bars and rummaged through the sawdust. Ash sat perfectly still, entranced by the birds beauty. When it flew away, it left a single pearl gray feather behind, which Ash hid from Jessie. He assumed that anything beautiful would be destroyed by her.

He sang to himself –inside where Jessie couldn't hear –one of Delia's lullabies: _Buenos dias paloma blanca. Hoy te vengo a saludar. Good morning white dove. Today I come to greet thee. _Delia said it was a song to the Virgin. It occurred to Ash that this dove had come from the Virgin and that the feather meant she would watch over him here as she had done in the little house.

* * *

One day he heard footsteps outside. He looked up to see a strange, new face on the other side of the bars. It was a boy somewhat older than himself, with spiky brown hair.

"You're ugly," Said the boy. "You look like a pig in a sty."

Ash wanted to reply, but the habit of silence had grown too strong. He could only glare at the intruder. In the hazy background of his mind, he recalled a boy named Gary, who was bad.

"Do something," said Gary. "Root around. Scratch your piggy behind on the wall. I have to have something to tell Misty."

Ash flinched. He remembered a cheerful little girl with red hair, who worried about him and was punished for bringing him food. So she had returned. And she hadn't come to see him.

"That got you, didn't it? Wait'll I tell your girlfriend how cute you are now. You smell lke a pile of dung."

Ash felt idly beneath the sawdust for something he'd been feeding to bugs. It was an entire orange. At first it had been green, but time had turned it blue and very soft. Worms filled the inside, diverting Ash with their wiggly bodies. He curled his fingers around the orange. It held its shape –barely.

"I forgot. You're too dumb to talk. You're a stupid clone who wets his pants and barfs all over his feet. Maybe if I spoke your language, you'd understand." Gary put his face against the bars and grunted. At the same instant Ash flung the orange.

The rotten orange burst apart all over Gary's face. He jumped back screaming, "It's moving, it's moving!" Pulp dripped off his chin. Wiggly worms dropped into his collar. "I'll get you for this!" He shrieked as her ran away.

Ash felt deeply peaceful. The room might look like a featureless desert to Jessie, but to him, it was a kingdom of hidden delights. Underneath the sawdust –and he knew exactly where –were caches of nutshells, seeds, bones, fruit, and gristle. The gristle was particularly valuable. You could stretch it, bend it, hold it up to the light, and even suck on it if it wasn't too old. The bones were his dolls. He could make them have adventures and talk to them.

Ash closed his eyes. He would like to lock up Jessie and the doctor. He would feed them wormy oranges and sour milk. They would beg him to let them go, but he wouldn't, not ever.

He fished up the dove feather and contemplated it's silky colors. The feather usually made him feel safe, but now it made him uneasy. Delia said the Virgin loved all kind and gentle things. She wouldn't approve of throwing a rotten orange in Gary's face, even if he deserved it. If she looked inside of Ash, she would seethe bad thoughts about Jessie and the doctor and be sad.

Ash found he was sad too. _I wouldn't really hurt them,_ he thought so the Virgin could see that and smile. Still, he couldn't help feeling the warm sensation of pleasure at having zinged Gary.

But as Delia had once told him, a smart person doesn't spit into the wind. If you throw a rotten orange into someone's face, you can bet the orange will sooner or later come flying back. In less than an hour Gary returned with a peashooter. Ash was clad only in a pair of shorts, so the peas landed on his bare skin. At first he tried to dodge them, but there was no where to run in the narrow little room. Ash settled in a corner with his head cradled in his arms to protect his face.

He instinctively understood that if he refused to react, Gary would lose interest. It still took a long time. The boy outside seemed to have an endless supply of peas, but eventually he called Ash a few bad names and went away. Ash waited for a long time to be sure. He could be very patient. He thought of _Pedro el Conejo, _who explored Senor MacGregor's garden and lost all his clothes. Ash too had lost all his clothes, except for shorts. Jessie said he would only ruin them.

Finally he looked up and saw his kingdom was in disarray. Running around had destroyed the marks that told Ash what lay below. Sighing, he worked his way through the sawdust. He felt underneath to find his treasures. He combed the surface smooth with his fingers and renewed the lines and hollows that told him where everything was. It was very much like Delia moving the furniture out to vacuum the rugs and then moving it back again.

When he was finished, Ash sat in his corner and waited for Jessie to bring his dinner. But something shocking and unbelievable happened first.

"_Mijo! Mi hijo!" _cried Delia from the window. "My child! My child! I didn't know you were here. Oh, God! They told me you were with El Patron. I didn't know." She was holding Misty up to the window in the crook of her arm.

"He looks different," observed Misty.

"They starved him, the animals! And took his clothes! Come here darling, I want to touch you." Delia jammed her big hand through the bars. "Let me see you _mi vida_. I can't believe what's happened."

But Ash could only stare. He wanted to go. He had dreamed of nothing else, but now the moment had actually come, he couldn't move. It was too good to be true. If he gave in and ran to Delia, something bad would happen. Delia would turn into Jessie, and isty would turn into Gary. The disappointment would break him to pieces.

"Hey, eejit, I went to a lot of trouble to come here," Misty said.

"Are you too weak to stand?" Delia cried suddenly. "Oh, my God! Have they broken your legs? At least say something. They haven't torn out your tongue?" She began to wail like La Llorona. She stretched her hand through the bars. Her misery tore at Ash, and still he couldn't move or speak.

"You're squeezing me," complained Misty, so Delia put her down. The little girl managed to stand tall enough to peer through the window. "My dog, Furball, was like that when the dogcatcher got him. I cried and cried until Dada brought him back. Furball wouldn't eat or look at me for a whole day, but he got over it. I'm sure Ash will too."

"Out of the mouths of babies comes wisdom," said Delia.

"I'm not a baby!"

"Of course not, darling. You only reminded me that the most important thing is to get Ash free," Delia said, smoothing Misty's hair. "We can worry about the other stuff later. If I give you a letter, can you keep it a secret from everyone? Especially Gary?"

"Sure," said Misty.

"I hate to do it," Delia said, half to herself, "I hate like _crazy _to do it, but there's only one person who can save Ash. Misty, you must take this letter to you dada. He'll know where to send it."

"Okay," said Misty cheerfully. "Hey, Ash. Delia's going to put chiles in Gary's hot chocolate tonight, only you mustn't tell anyone."

"And _you_ mustn't either," said Delia.

"Okay."

"Don't you worry," the woman called to Ash. "I've got more tricks up my sleeve than an old man coyote has flees. I'll get you out of there, my love!"

Ash was frankly relieved to see them go. They were an unwelcome intrusion in the orderly world he had created. He could forget them now and get back to the contemplation of his kingdom. The surface of the sawdust was combed smooth, the treasures hidden beneath marks that only he, the king, understood. A bee wandered in, found nothing, and left. A spider mended its web high up near the ceiling. Ash took out the dove feather and lost himself in its silky perfection.

_

* * *

__Wow this took me FOREVER to write, I'm sooo sorry!! I haven't been getting around to any of my stories and I thought to update this one first and then attempt at putting all other stories on hold to finish Why You Should Never Cheat On Your Girlfriend, but what do you guys think?? I am confused, maybe I'll make a poll or whatever it's called and see which is my next update. Anywayz, Bye! _

_And my reviewers: _

_CrystalMask _

_Hirohsi's socks _

_Bentley the great _

_Ashlover121 _

_Theupdaters _

_Thanks so much and sorry! Oh also, when you review try to review for my most recent chapter, unless you've already reviewed for it because I know from my own fun times that doesn't let you review the same chapter twice, it just helps me keep track if someone doesn't review my story anymore for a particular reason, I don't put them in there. Just because as you can see my story's run for long spans of time this person may not even be on anymore, who knows right? Bye!_


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